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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008580">The Heat Don't Get To Me Like You Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fresca_J/pseuds/Fresca_J'>Fresca_J</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Definitely OOC, Dutch actually appreciates Arthur's hard work :), Dutch is probably ooc, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hosea is Probably With Bessie, I Am Yearning Y'all, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Listen we all need something soft, M/M, No Smut, Nothing makes sense because I'm in charge here, They're both Asexual because I need serotonin, Wish Fulfillment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:53:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fresca_J/pseuds/Fresca_J</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dutch reads to Arthur. They discuss. Might make this longer when I am sober .</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Heat Don't Get To Me Like You Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yes I know Hemingway was born in 1899 and The Old Man and the Sea wasn't written until the 50's but I beat god in a poker game so she said I could do whatever I want :)<br/>Also I just got my wisdom teeth removed and am on many pain pills, so sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         Arthur’s head sat in Dutch’s lap as Dutch finished up the last few pages of the book the older had been reading to Arthur these past few days. Dutch sat against a tree, his legs folded so as to hold Arthur’s head. The breeze, matched with the midday heat of August, was refreshing, and Arthur kept his eyes closed so as to soak in the words that flew from Dutch’s lips. Arthur had stolen the book for him a few days back, something called <em>The Old Man and the Sea, </em>mostly to tease Dutch. When he had found the thing, he hurried back to Dutch to proclaim, “Look, someone wrote a book about you!” Dutch had merely rolled his eyes fondly, smacking Arthur lightly atop his head, only to say thank you in a voice so soft Arthur had barely heard it. If his heart had fluttered in his chest, who could say?</p>
<p>          When Dutch had proposed to read the book to him, Arthur had only said yes to listen to Dutch talk, but now, Arthur had taken a genuine liking to the story. Santiago was brave and unyielding, someone to be admired. He dreamed big, and the old fool just didn’t know when to quit. Arthur opened his eyes upon hearing of the old man’s struggles to get home, mast in tow. He watched Dutch’s face, not really for any reaction, just for the sake of doing so. Their eyes met, and Arthur smiled, a silent encouragement meant to show that he was indeed still listening. Dutch smiled back, and when Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed once more, Dutch went to carding his fingers through the younger man’s hair.</p>
<p>           The book ended far too soon for Arthur’s liking, Dutch’s hand leaving his hair in order to close the book with a soft thud. Arthur looked up at Dutch.</p>
<p>         “He ain’t dead is he? The old man?” Dutch laughed, looking down at Arthur, his fingers still running through Arthur’s sandy hair.</p>
<p><em>         It’s getting long, </em>he thought to himself. “Why do you think that?” he said out loud.</p>
<p>        “Well, he spit blood, said he felt somethin in his chest break. He’s sleepin an awful lot at the end, too.”</p>
<p>        “Not dead, but damn near close to it, I suppose. He’s sleeping because he’s <em>tired</em>, Arthur, he just fought a shark. Besides, he’s got someone taking care of him.”</p>
<p>        Arthur thought for a moment. Thought about how scared he would be to see Dutch in such a state. He thought about how he might cry, too, but he didn’t like lingering on those thoughts. With a profession such as theirs, the thoughts became all too real, so Arthur decided to stop that train of thought then and there. Dutch’s eyes still lingered, however, so Arthur merely shrugged. When Dutch’s hand left Arthur’s hair, he took it as his cue to sit up, and he did so to face his mentor.</p>
<p>    Before Arthur could articulate why he thought Manolin should have done things differently, Dutch interjected.</p>
<p>    “I hope you realize how helpful a person like Manolin can be, when in such a state. The boy sees to it that Santiago survives, in my opinion.”</p>
<p>    Sometimes Arthur was sure Dutch could read his mind, but Arthur laughed anyways. “The kid didn’t even try to look for the guy, how helpful could he really be?”</p>
<p>    “Are you forgetting he had parents who didn’t allow him to see Santiago? And anyways, someone needs to catch fish while he’s away.”</p>
<p>    “Well, maybe, but isn’t your friend gonna be a little more important than a few fish?”</p>
<p>    “Perhaps, but Santiago had told the boy where he was going. He only got so worried when he saw the state of the old man.”</p>
<p>    “I guess,” came Arthurs reply. Dutch set the book down beside him, looking at Arthur quizzically. When Arthur began squirming, Dutch stated softly, “Manolin doesn’t remind you of anyone? No one at all?”</p>
<p>    Now Arthur’s cheeks began to redden, but he quickly ducked his head down, hiding underneath his hat. He just <em>knew</em> Dutch was going to say something, but before he could get up to completely ignore what Dutch said, the older swiped Arthur’s hat off his head.</p>
<p>    “Aww c’mon Arthur, I didn’t mean nothin by it, just a genuine question.” Dutch’s grin was smug, and had any other man decided to take Arthur’s hat off his head, they’d probably be dead already. With Dutch though, this came easy, whatever it was. Arthur crossed his arms, a smile spreading across his own features as well. He loved when Dutch was like this, soft and playful, and he felt as though maybe heaven was real, and he was looking at it every time he saw Dutch’s eyes light up and a smile gracing his face. That’s not something he would say out loud of course. Instead, he said, “As a matter of fact, Dutch, no, he doesn’t. That stubborn old man, on the other hand…”</p>
<p>    Now it was Arthur’s turn to be smug, and as he heard Dutch’s laugh echo into the forest they were currently inhabiting, the thought of heaven struck him once more, and this time with a pang to his heart. Sometimes he felt as though Dutch’s actions, even the small ones, like laughing, would make his poor heart explode. Dutch wiped tears from his warm brown eyes, his laugh dying down as he punched Arthur’s arm with no real power behind the act.</p>
<p>    “Well, Arthur, I suppose you might be right,” He said as he calmed down. In just a moment, though, his eyes went from playful and fun, to somber and serious. "I do want you to know, however, that your loyalty means everything to me. I notice, Arthur, I see the little things you do, and I genuinely appreciate you. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”</p>
<p>    At the last sentence, Dutch’s eyes grew fond, and he placed a gentle hand on Arthur’s arm, a small smile playing out on his lips. Arthur didn’t really know how to respond at first, so he simply took Dutch’s free hand in his own. Dutch was always better at words than him, but that’s what helped to make him special, piled on top of millions of other things that the young man could go on about for hours.</p>
<p>    “I know Dutch,” and as the sun dipped below the clouds, casting the sky in brilliant purples, pinks, and blues, Arthur pushed his forehead against Dutch’s. “I dunno what I’d do either.”</p>
<p>    Dutch watched Arthur close his eyes once more, drinking in the sight of the man’s face. He took in every detail, wishing this moment wouldn’t end. He kissed Arthur’s forehead lightly, barely brushing his lips against the man’s skin. He then stood up, bringing Arthur with him. Moments are always better as just that, moments. And Dutch believed he would hold this one in his heart till the day he died.</p>
<p>    “C’mon, son,” Dutch said, softly, pulling Arthur close. “Let’s get to bed.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pls be nice to me I am merely a little boy, a little creeture... i cannot help this ..</p></blockquote></div></div>
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